Three Memories Lily Potter Has of Her Parents
by dracosoftie
Summary: Lily has always assumed her parents had the perfect marriage, but on her own wedding day, she finds out that's not exactly true. EWE, angst, fluff. H/D. NC-17.  17K words
1. Part I

**Title**: Three Memories Lily Potter Has of Her Parents, and One She Doesn't

**Author**: dracosoftie

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco

**Rating**: NC-17

**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: Future!fic, EWE, angst, fluff, slash

**Summary**: Lily has always assumed her parents had the perfect marriage, but on her own wedding day, she finds out that's not exactly true. ~17K words in four parts

**A/N**: For Noted, who was kind enough to bid on me to write her a fic as part of the LiveJournal help_japan auction. Thanks, darlin'! She wanted established-relationship Drarry where we got to see glimpses of their married life and a bit of conflict over one of them wanting children and the other not. Many, many thanks to Faeryqueen07 and Awrence for going over this with a fine-toothed comb and fixing my timeline inconsistencies and grammar fails. Any remaining errors are mine.

(And yes, I know I'm playing a bit fast-and-loose with the birth order of Harry's kids. But since this is EWE, let's just go with it, OK?)

*.*.*.*.*

**MALFOY MANOR, Aug. 23, 2036**

"It's your wedding day, love. You're allowed to be nervous," Hermione said, expression both concerned and indulgent as she stared at the picture she and her niece made in the floor-length mirror.

Lily was a beautiful bride, her gown billowing around her and framing her petite figure perfectly. Great-aunt Muriel's Goblin-made tiara, a Weasley family heirloom that had seen more than a dozen weddings since Muriel's, was nestled in her auburn hair, twinkling in late afternoon sun.

Lily gave her aunt a watery smile, drawing in a deep breath. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to quiet the butterflies in her stomach. She and Andrew were due to walk down the aisle in less than an hour, and suddenly, after months of planning and years of dating, she wasn't sure she could do it.

"How do I know we'll be happy?" she murmured, watching Hermione in the mirror.

Hermione smiled, wrapping an arm around Lily's waist and squeezing her affectionately.

"You don't. That's why marriage is such a leap of faith," she said softly.

Lily's breath stuttered as her chest tightened with anxiety. It wasn't that she didn't know marriage could work, she did. She had examples of that all around her. Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur had been married for more than 60 years, and she'd never heard a sharp word between them. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron had been married longer than her own parents, who were still deliriously happy and coming up on nearly thirty-five years of wedded bliss themselves.

It all added up to an incredible amount of pressure, in Lily's opinion. She couldn't think of anyone in her family who had been divorced, even though it was quite common in the wizarding world. Half of her dorm at Hogwarts had parents who had divorced, and several of her Auror colleagues had already been married and divorced, some more than once. It was part of the reason she'd made Andrew wait so long. He'd wanted to get married more than three years ago, but she'd refused. She wanted to be sure. She wanted to have what her parents had.

And Lily was fairly certain she would have it with Andrew. He'd stuck by while she'd made him wait, giving her the time and space she'd needed and even living with her despite his family's protests. Wizarding society was ages behind Muggles in terms of social customs, despite the fact that it had embraced the Muggle custom of divorce quite enthusiastically, and it was still uncommon for a couple to live together before marriage. But she'd wanted to be _sure_, and how could she be sure that she and Andrew were truly compatible if they didn't have a trial run first?

She'd grown up with parents who were so in love with each other that the world outside their family simply faded away, and she wanted that for herself. She had so many memories of them, and the one constant was how much they adored each other.

"Aunt Hermione? Would you mind terribly if I just sat on my own for a bit?"

Hermione smiled, pressing a kiss against Lily's cheek. She remembered her own wedding day and how plagued with indecision she'd been. Lily was a lot like her, always practical and logical. She wasn't surprised that her niece would rather spend the hour before her wedding alone.

"I'll see to the flowers, shall I?" Hermione said, glancing in the mirror to coax a stray wisp of hair back into submission before setting off for the door. "I'll send your Dad by when it's time, sweetie."

Lily nodded, taking a deep breath when the door shut behind her aunt. The silence rang in her ears, and she wondered if she'd made a mistake in sending her away. She smoothed the front of her dress, a small smile playing on her lips as she remembered the first time she'd been old enough to attend a fancy dress event. She'd been so excited to stay up late and spend time her parents, assuming that they'd spend the night dancing and laughing, just like they did at home on the nights Uncle Charlie came over and played his violin. She'd been wrong, though, and the memory made Lily's heart clench.

*.*.*.*.*

**GRIMMAULD PLACE, May 2, 2018**

"It's itchy," Lily complained from the doorway of her parents' room, tugging at the full crinoline skirt of the ball gown her older cousin Victoire had picked out for her. It had seemed like a great idea when Aunt Fleur had held it up, and Victoire and her other cousin, Rose, had said they loved it, but now Lily wasn't so sure. She felt silly in so much fabric. And what would happen if she spilled something on it?

"Isn't there some sort of underskirt that goes with it?"

Lily wrinkled her nose at her father. "That was too hot."

"It would seem that your choices are being too hot or being too itchy," Draco said with a shrug, half an eye on his daughter as he fixed Harry's bow tie.

"You don't have any idea how uncomfortable this dress is," Lily complained, stomping a low-heeled foot on the hardwood. "Women _literally_chafe under our patriarchal society and its expectations of female beauty–"

"You're not allowed to talk to Aunt Hermione anymore," Draco interrupted with a mutter, finishing with Harry's tie and stepping up to the mirror to check his own.

"Dad," Lily whined, turning to Harry for support.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Far be it from me to cause you to chafe under expectations, Lils. If you don't want to wear the dress, you don't have to."

Lily stuck her tongue out at her father, who rolled his eyes and grabbed his cuff links from the bureau, donning them in swift, economical motions born of years of practice.

Draco was nonchalant as he delivered the death-blow to the argument, tone even and matter-of-fact. "That said, it's a fancy dress ball, Lily. If you don't wear the dress, you can't attend."

"_Dad_!"

Draco rolled his eyes at their daughter's squeal. Harry had always been the weaker link, so it was no surprise the enterprising ten year old was appealing to him instead of Draco. She was shaping up to be quite the Slytherin, and Draco couldn't have been prouder.

"Your father's right. You chose that dress, and it looks lovely. But if you'd rather, you can stay home with your brothers tonight. I'm sure Grandma Molly wouldn't mind if we dropped you by the Burrow on the way to the Ministry."

Lily's shoulders slumped, defeated. She'd been looking forward to the ball for months. It was the first time her parents had deemed her old enough to join them for the Ministry gala they went to every year, and there was no way she'd miss it. She had a feeling her dad knew that. He was much more reasonable than her father, but he still didn't play fair.

"I'll get the underskirt,' she said petulantly, bottom lip pressed out in a pout.

"Be ready in ten minutes, Lily," Draco said, catching her eye as he helped Harry into his cuff links. "And wash your face. Did you think I wouldn't notice the lipstick?"

Lily huffed out a breath, hiding a smile as she flounced out of the room, the slight train of the dress flowing around her legs. It _was_ a nice dress, she admitted grudgingly as she stomped off toward her room.

*.*.*.*.*

The ball was nothing like she'd expected. She'd had to sit still for the first hour during speech after speech about the war and how much good had been done in the Wizarding world since. She'd been a bit startled when her dad had been called up on stage, but from his grim expression he'd expected it. She wondered if it happened every year. He'd never said anything about it, but then again, he never did. Her father said it was because her dad had an overactive sense of modesty.

She'd been relieved when dinner had been served, even though she hadn't liked the salmon or the over-cooked rice. It had been a break from all the boring speeches, though, and the chocolate cake they'd served for dessert had more than made up for the fish and soggy vegetables.

When the dancing had started she'd been suddenly struck shy, worried about making a misstep or tripping over the train of her dress. But her father had solved that, casting a spell that had bustled the train and brought the hem of the dress just up off the floor, showing off the pretty shoes she'd borrowed from Rose that had a real, though modest, high heel. It had been a challenge to learn to walk in them, but it was worth it now, as she glided around the room with her father, feeling like the height of sophistication in her ball gown and heels.

She'd danced several rounds with both her father and her dad before her feet had started to hurt and she'd started to feel sleepy. The ball hadn't even started until after her bedtime, which made it all the more special. She sat at the table, clustered together with Rose as they watched Victoire dance with at least a dozen other boys, keeping one eye on her cousin and another on her parents.

Until then, she hadn't noticed that her parents hadn't danced together. They were still out on the floor now, dancing with her aunts and various friends, but she found it odd that they hadn't made time for a dance themselves, yet. At home, her parents loved to dance, using any excuse they could get to wrap their arms around each other. The best times were when her Uncle Charlie came to visit from Romania and brought his violin with him. He'd learned to play because dragons were soothed by music, and the violin had seemed like a good, portable choice. They'd clear away all the furniture in the living room and Uncle Charlie would play waltzes for her father and dad mixed in with faster, more modern music for her and her brothers, and everyone always had a great time. She knew it wasn't something they reserved for home, like the fact that her dad hadn't needed his clunky glasses for years now, but wore them when he went out so no one else knew that. Her grandmother loved to tease her father about the way he and her dad never let anyone cut in when they went to the balls at Malfoy Manor.

Lily kept a careful eye on her parents as the night wore on, her concern growing. Her dad and father never went very long without touching, even if it was just a casual brush of their arms as one of them squeezed past the other in the kitchen. Her aunts and uncles had always teased them about it, which had been the only reason Lily realized that was out of the ordinary at all. But tonight, they seemed to be keeping their hands to themselves. She'd catch them looking at each other across the room or even chatting by the refreshment table, but they were stiff and kept an almost formal distance. Usually if they were standing around, her father would have a hand on her dad's back or her dad would have his arm around her father's waist – _something_, at any rate, even if it was just their shoulders brushing together or their hands clasped.

"Aunt Hermione?"

Her aunt had joined the table a few minutes earlier to warn the girls that it was just about time to go. Lily was going home with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron, as were her cousins Victoire and Dominique, to have a sleep over with Rose. Lily had figured at the time that her parents just wanted the house to themselves, but after seeing them be so standoffish with each other tonight, she wasn't sure.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, her own brow furrowing as she saw the look of concern on her niece's face. She'd been the one to push to allow Lily to attend – she was only a year younger than Rose, and this was already Rose's third ball – but she wondered if it had been too much for her. Hermione hadn't thought about how hard it would be to hear about the war knowing the dangers her dad had put himself in to win it. Harry and Draco worked hard to shield their children from the curse of having such famous parents, which probably meant that it had been all the more shocking for Lily to see that evening.

Lily frowned, scanning the crowded dance floor until she found her father. He was dancing with her Aunt Andromeda, looking perfectly at ease. Her dad was across the room, talking with her Uncle Neville near the punch.

"Are my parents fighting?"

Hermione blinked in surprise, not expecting that to be Lily's concern. She gave a startled laugh, following Lily's gaze toward Harry.

"No, of course not, sweetheart. Why would you think that?"

Lily shrugged. "I just figured they'd spend the whole night dancing together."

Understanding the problem, Hermione mentally berated Wizarding society even as she took a breath and grinned, forcing levity into her voice.

"Oh, honey. When your parents fight, it's never silent. Remember last year, when Albus broke his arm and your dad was so flustered he Floo'd with him to St. Mundus instead of St. Mungo's?"

Lily grinned. Al had fallen out of a tree during a party at the Burrow, and her dad had been the first to reach him. He'd been so worried that he'd stammered as he'd called out their destination, which meant that when the rest of the family had arrived at St. Mungo's a minute later, her dad and brother had been nowhere in sight. They'd ended up at St. Mundus Abbey in Scotland, instead, and it had taken some fast talking on her dad's part to convince the nun they'd startled by tumbling out of the fireplace that everything was alright. The Abbess was a witch, which was why the fireplace had been on the Floo network in the first place. Her father had not been pleased, and Lily wouldn't have been surprised if all of St. Mungo's had heard him shouting when her dad and Al arrived a few minutes later.

"That was just because he was scared," Lily said, feeling the need to defend her father. He was all bark and no bite most of the time, given to flashes of temper that he later felt horrible about. She was rather like that herself.

"I know," Hermione said, winking. "But it just goes to show that if your parents _were_ fighting, you'd know."

Lily grinned wanly, knowing that her aunt wouldn't give up until she was convinced. "You're right, Aunt Hermione. Thanks."

She pretended to be caught up in conversation with her cousins when her aunt slipped away with the warning that they had five minutes before they needed to be ready to leave. The four of them fell silent as they watched their aunt pull Harry aside and whisper worriedly, drawing the attention of Draco, who even from across the room could easily tell something was wrong. When the trio furtively moved out to the sparsely populated balcony, still arguing, Lily didn't feel the slightest bit bad when Dominique suggested they follow to find out what they were talking about. They were her _parents_, after all. Lily had a right to know what was wrong.

She and Rose were the ones to slip behind the heavy damask curtains, hiding themselves from view both inside and outside the ballroom, while Dominique and Victoire sought out their Uncle Ron to delay him so he didn't come looking for them. The open doors made it easy to listen in to the conversation, and Lily pressed herself against the cool stone, her cheeks hot from worry and the breathless excitement of eavesdropping on adults.

"–not something she needs to be exposed to."

Lily frowned at her father's words. He was always big on honesty, preferring that she and her brothers know exactly which rumors from the war about both him and her dad were true and which weren't. The truth was painful to hear, but Lily knew it meant she could always trust him to tell her everything.

"How can you _say_ that, Draco?" Lily felt like nodding at her aunt's words, but didn't move for fear of giving herself away.

"How can _I_ say that? You're the one who's always saying we're too honest with the children. This isn't something we can fix for them, Hermione. This isn't telling them about my past but assuring them I'm a better person for it now. This isn't raising Lily and Al to know they were adopted, even though we love them like they were our own."

Lily blanched. What secret could be so big, so destructive, that her father felt so strongly it be kept? And why wasn't her dad chiming in?

"I don't want the children growing up with the burden of society's prejudices either, Draco, but Lily's going to find out when she goes away to Hogwarts next year. Do you really think none of her classmates will make crass remarks?"

Lily looked up, catching Rose's eye. To her surprise, her cousin didn't look as perplexed as Lily felt; Rose looked away and then motioned for Lily to follow her, backing out of the curtains and disappearing from Lily's line of sight.

Lily crept forward, the heavy fabric of the curtains brushing against her face as she carefully peered outside. Her father had his arm around her dad, who had his face tucked into her father's neck. At least her aunt had been right about them not being angry with each other.

She must have made some sort of sound, something to give herself away, because the next moment, her dad turned his head and met her gaze straight-on. Lily's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping, and her heart raced with fear that her parents would be angry with her. Instead, her dad whispered something to her father and the two of them stepped forward, motioning her out onto the balcony. Her aunt didn't wait around, giving her a quick hug before heading back inside, leaving Lily outside alone with her parents.

She shuffled forward when her dad held his hands out, nestling into the familiar comfort of his arms. The night air had chilled the fabric of his robes, and Lily pressed her hot cheek against it, enjoying the coolness.

"There are a few things we should talk about, Lils," her dad said, and then proceeded to tell her about the Wizarding world's views on homosexuality. It was a total shock to her that most witches and wizards thought her parents' relationship was an abomination – everyone in their family acted like her parents were no different than her aunts and uncles. It suddenly made more sense to her why she and her brothers so rarely went out with their parents; she'd figured it was because it was hard for Harry Potter to go out without being mobbed with fans, but apparently it was equal parts that and the fact that her father often got harassed for corrupting the Boy Who Lived.

"It's not right," she said, lip quivering, when her parents had finished telling her about the Wizarding world's views on their relationship. The Ministry didn't even consider them married; they'd been forced to settle for a civil ceremony in the Muggle world.

"It's not," her father said gently, running a finger down her wet cheek and chucking her under the chin the way he used to when she'd been little. It drew a watery smile from her.

Her parents loved each other. They were affectionate with each other and with their family, and it didn't seem fair that they were expected to appear in public for Ministry functions but weren't allowed to actually be _themselves_. Her dad had explained that the Ministry liked to parade him out for functions because despite the fact that most people didn't approve of his sexuality, he was still the Boy Who Lived. Nothing would change that.

"Bringing Draco with me is non-negotiable, and the Ministry has grudgingly accepted that. But your father and I choose not to give people more reason to gossip by fawning over each other in public," he told her.

Lily's lips set angrily, her eyes flashing.

"Who cares?"

"What?"

"Who _cares_? Why would you let a bunch of old biddies decide how you and father can act in public? They're wrong, and you shouldn't let them make you feel bad for who you are."

It was a speech similar to the one her father had given her months earlier when Teddy and some of the other boys hadn't wanted to let her join in their Quidditch game at the Burrow, telling her to go play with dolls and make-up with the rest of the girls. He'd dried her tears and marched her back out to the pitch, all the while giving her tips on how to feint and dive and generally fly circles around her cousins – which she had.

"You know what, Lils?" Lily recognized the defiant tilt of her dad's jaw – it was the same one she often saw in the mirror. "You're right."

Lily watched wide-eyed as her dad grabbed her father's hand, pulling him into the ballroom without another word. No one seemed to notice their entrance, but when the two of them marched out onto the dance floor and stopped in the middle, arms around each other as a new waltz started, the room started buzzing with conversation.

Practically everyone in the ballroom stared at them, but it didn't seem to bother her parents. They were wrapped up in their own little cocoon, talking and laughing and stealing the occasional kiss that made Lily's cheeks burn with the embarrassment she always felt when her parents acted like lovestruck teenagers. Though as embarrassed as she was, Lily was proud, knowing what a risk her parents were taking. Gone was the polite distance they'd kept between them all night, replaced with the warmth and love she was used to seeing between them. No one could keep their eyes off her parents, everyone whispering furiously and pointing. Both her dad and her father seemed ignore them completely, almost glowing with happiness, and Lily straightened her spine, glaring at anyone who dared look her way in a less-than-complimentary way. And when Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron broke through the crowd to join her parents on the now-empty dance floor, Lily couldn't help but grin. Even more so when her Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill made their way out, too, followed by the rest of her parents' friends.

"I think this means we're staying later," Rose said from beside her, slipping her hand into Lily's.

They stood there watching until the worst of the whispering had subsided. The dance floor was once again full of couples, and though there were still people staring at her parents with undisguised anger, most people had moved on. From the looks of things, her parents were just getting started – she'd never seen them so happy to be dancing together.

Long after she and her cousins had retired to their table, heads propped up on their hands as they watched the crowd with drooping eyelids, her dad appeared at her shoulder, cupping her elbow and helping her up. Her feet were throbbing, so she didn't complain when he effortlessly picked her up, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. Normally she'd pitch a fit at such a display, but she was tired and she'd spent the evening worrying about her parents and watching other people gossip about them. She curled her arms around his neck possessively, and Harry laughed, pressing a kiss against her hair.

"She must really be out of it if she's allowing that," she heard her father murmur. He wrapped her cloak around her, tucking it in around her sides so it didn't slip off as her dad carried her.

"You can stay with Rosie another night, Lils. Let's get you home," her dad said, tightening his arms around her as he carried her out.

Lily muttered a response that was lost in the fabric of her dad's robes, and both her parents laughed. The whoosh of the Floo was the last thing she remembered before her cheek hitting the pillow awakened her, her dad laying her gently in her bed as her father helped him pull her dress over her head and leaving her in the underskirt and chemise. She heard the borrowed shoes hit the floor a second later, right before her father pulled the blankets up and kissed her forehead.

"I can't believe how grown up she's getting," Harry said, turning out the light and hovering in the doorway, reluctant to shut out the view of his sleeping daughter.

"She taught us a thing or two tonight, didn't she?"

She heard her dad chuckle.

"My little girl. She'll be at Hogwarts next year, Draco. _Hogwarts_."

"You're not pining for another, I hope, Potter," Draco growled, arching an eyebrow at him.

"God, no. Albus is finally potty trained, and if I never see another diaper again in my life I'll die happy," Harry answered, drawing a laugh from Draco.

"Good. I'm rather getting used to sleeping through the night again."

"I hope that's not what's on the agenda tonight."

Lily turned over restlessly, her parents' banter growing softer as they moved away from her door. She nestled deeper into her pillow, dreaming of how perfect they'd looked gliding around the dance floor.


	2. Part II

*.*.*.*.*

**MALFOY MANOR, Aug. 23, 2036**

"Sis?"

Lily looked up, smiling when Scorpius stuck his head in the door. His shock of bright white hair was in disarray, which probably meant that he'd just run into Aunt Luna. She gave exuberant hugs, and none of them ever walked away unscathed – especially Score.

"It's not time yet, is it?" she asked, scanning the room for a clock. She wasn't surprised she didn't find one – they were getting married in Celtic temple that had been on the grounds of Malfoy Manor for centuries; her grandfather had finally caved and had the Manor wired for electricity a few decades earlier, but he'd refused to do the same for the ancient temple, which far out-dated even the centuries-old manor house.

"No, you've still got about forty minutes," Scorpius said, easing inside and leaning against the door as he closed it. He studied his sister, taking in the paleness of her cheeks and the worried lines that bracketed her mouth.

"You want I should rough him up?"

Lily laughed. "_The Godfather_ was on last night, wasn't it?"

Score grinned. He had a weakness for old Muggle movies. They were so much more interesting than the modern ones, with all their special effects. He'd been obsessed with Muggle mobsters as a child, and he'd probably been the only one in his primary school with a closet full of zoot suits.

"What's up, Sassafras?" Scorpius sank down on the sofa next to her, heedless of the wrinkles it was putting in his robes.

Lily rolled her eyes at the childhood nickname, grabbing her wand and casting the same protection spells over his clothes that she'd cast on her own dress when she'd given in to her already-sore feet and sat down after her aunt had left. Score was an adult in his own right, but since she was four years his elder she'd always think of him as her little brother. He winked at her when the charm straightened his robes, and Lily smiled indulgently in return. She'd probably never grow out of the urge to take care of her little brothers.

"I'm just a little nervous."

Scorpius nodded. He was close to all his siblings, but as the two oldest, he and Lily were closest. She'd talked to him about her fears in the months leading up to the wedding, but he'd hoped her cold feet would warm up by the big day.

"Not every marriage is perfect, Lils, but you'll never know if you and Andrew can have what Dad and Father have unless you try," he said quietly, catching her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"You and Elle seem happy," she said, leaning into her brother's warm shoulder. Though she was older, he was a full head taller. Her parents had teased that she might be part elf, since she was so small. With her delicate features and petite build, Lily knew it was only partially a joke; she could very well have an elf in her family history. The orphanage hadn't had any paperwork on where she'd come from, and her parents had always declined to put her through the magical testing that could have definitively shown her heritage. She supposed at twenty-eight she could probably do that herself if she was truly curious, but her dad and father had made it clear enough over the years that she was _theirs_, not anyone else's, and that was enough for her.

"We are," Scorpius said, a fond smile curving his lips. He and Elle had met at Hogwarts and had married while they'd been at University together, which was much more to wizarding tradition that Lily's own eight-year courtship.

"Will Leo and Lacey be OK, do you think?"

Score and Elle's four-year-old twins, Leo and Lacerta, were to be the ring bearer and flower girl, but they were horribly shy, and Lily was afraid the crowded chapel might be too scary for them.

"They'll be alright. Elle's going to send them off, and they know they'll be walking straight down to me at the end of the aisle. Easy peasy." He cast her a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow in a way that made him look just like Father. "Does that mean there _will_ be an aisle to walk down, then?"

Lily laughed and shoved playfully at her brother.

"You're just hoping for an excuse to get out of those dress robes early. I know how much you hate ties."

"You wound me," he said, holding their still-joined hands over his heart. "I'd never put my own comfort ahead of my sister's happiness."

Lily took a breath, smoothing her dress when Scorpius released her hand.

"I am happy," she said, offering him a tentative smile.

"You aren't," he said, winking when she opened her mouth to protest. "But you will be."

His expression turned serious, his grey eyes flashing distant. It didn't strike often, not nearly as much as it did for Aunt Luna, but Score was a Seer. It was in his blood on both sides, and it had gifted him with the unique ability to see his family's future instead of the futures of those unrelated. It was rare, and at times it was scary, since he saw both the good and the bad, but he wouldn't trade the ability for anything; it had helped him keep his family safe on more than one occasion.

"I see babies, Lils," he said softly, and Lily held her breath. "Babies with your hair and Andrew's eyes. I see vacations and fights and parties, and through all of it, even the hard times, you're happy."

Lily swallowed, her eyes burning with tears of relief.

"Thanks, Score," she whispered, returning the gesture this time as he gave her his trademark wink and left the room.

*.*.*.*.*

**ST. MUNGO'S, Oct. 29, 2012**

"What if she's changed her mind? What if she can't let him go?"

Harry's voice broke, and he buried his face against Draco's shoulder, swallowing heavily.

"If that happens, we'll deal with it. She _volunteered_, Harry. She has three of her own at home. She knew what it would be like."

"But what if we can't take him home? What if –"

Lily settled back down in the squishy chair by Aunt Luna's bedside, tuning her parents' whispered conversation out. At four, she didn't fully understand why her parents were so worried about bringing her baby brother home from St. Mungo's. Her cousin Rose, who was three years older than her, had been five when Hugo was born, and she'd told Lily everything she needed to know about having a baby in the house, and none of it seemed too hard.

"They cry," Rose had told her shortly after her dad and father had announced she'd have a brother in a few months. "They cry and they sleep a lot. And eat."

Rose had eyed her dad speculatively from across the room, where he'd been getting hugs and kisses from Grandma Molly and the rest of the family. "Except I don't know how they'll manage that. Mum was the one to feed Hugo."

Lily had bristled. Her parents were every bit as good as Rose's. It's not like they'd forget to feed a baby. Before she could respond, though, her Aunt Luna had come in, already huge in Lily's eyes, and everyone had rushed over to her, fetching her drinks and getting her settled comfortably on the sofa, and Lily's conversation with Rose had been instantly forgotten.

Now, though, with her parents standing over Scorpius' bassinet with worried expressions, Lily remembered Rose's concern. She bit her lip as she colored a get-well card for Aunt Luna, who was sleeping beside her. Lily had woken up this morning to Grandma Molly telling her that her baby brother had been born overnight and her parents were at the hospital with Aunt Luna.

Her aunt had looked sick when she'd come in, and Lily supposed it must be hard work to get a baby out of your belly. Rose had told her as much; she'd said her mum had screamed and yelled when Hugo was born, which Lily found hard to believe. She'd never heard her Aunt Hermione raise her voice.

She'd also said that her mother had been smiley and happy afterward, but Aunt Luna wasn't. She'd been crying when Lily had gotten there, and Uncle Rolph had been there with his arm around her while her parents sat on the edge of the bed looking sad as well. They'd all put on happy faces when she and Grandma Molly had walked in, but Lily wasn't stupid. She'd known it had all been an act.

Lily peered over at her brother, who had started to wail. Her Dad lifted him to his shoulder, rocking him back and forth, while her Father used his wand to warm a bottle the way Grandma Molly had shown him earlier. Scorpius stopped crying the minute her Dad put the bottle to his mouth, and Lily sighed in relief. Rose had obviously been wrong. Her parents knew how to feed a baby, and everything would be fine.

*.*.*.*.*

Aunt Luna stayed away until Score's first birthday, though Lily had visited her several times at her house. She'd worried that her aunt had still been sick, but everyone had assured her that Aunt Luna was fine.

When they showed up for the party, her cousins Agrippa, Saturnius and Timon had stuck close to their mother, the usually boisterous children uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn't the only strange thing that had happened. Aunt Luna had come over to her dad and asked to hold Scorpius, and all the adults in the room had gone silent, watching them. Lily didn't understand why they were so worried; Aunt Luna had three kids and obviously knew how to hold a baby. And Score wasn't even that little anymore – she'd picked him up just the other day and dropped him, and aside from a few sharp words from her father and some tears from Score, everything had been fine.

Aunt Luna hadn't dropped her brother, but everyone had continued to watch her carefully until she'd given him a hug and put him back in her dad's arms, still smiling herself. Lily thought it seemed like the room had breathed a collective sigh of relief, but she didn't understand why. Aunt Luna was a bit weird, but she was very careful with children.

"I have no words, Luna," Lily heard her father say later as she walked out into the garden in search of her cousin Teddy. He'd promised her a piggy back ride.

Lily stopped short, worried about the sound of her father's voice. He was always calm and composed – her dad was the one whose voice sometimes went funny when he was sad. She'd never heard her father sound so choked up.

"I don't need any words, Draco," Luna said, and Lily saw her put her hand on her father's arm. That was odd, too. Her father was quite particular about his robes, and even more particular about people touching him.

"You and Harry are great parents, and you needed a magical heir to carry on the Malfoy traits. I was happy to be able to help you."

"We shouldn't have asked it of you," Draco said, swallowing against a surge of emotion.

"You didn't ask. I offered," she said quietly, offering him a small smile.

"You didn't realize what it would entail. None of us did," Draco answered, pulling Luna into a hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, some of the tension in her own posture draining.

"That's not true," she said, the words muffled. She pulled away, keeping Draco's arm slung over her shoulder but putting a little distance between them so they could speak. "I had a vision about it. Scorpius is going to grow up to do great things, and I'm glad to have been a part of that."

Draco's brow furrowed. "If you knew that it would be so hard –"

"I knew it would be impossible," Luna interrupted. "I knew that if I saw him again after St. Mungo's, I wouldn't be able to give him up. So I stayed away."

"You were depressed. Rolph said you could hardly get out of bed for a month. I'm so sorry, Luna. This has changed you, and Harry and I never wanted that. Of course you didn't want to give him up, he's part of you. He's your so–"

"Nephew," Luna said forcefully. "He's my nephew, Draco. It's taken me some time, but I'm alright. And I'm ready to get to know my nephew, if that's OK with you and Harry."

"It is, it absolutely is," Draco said, the pinched look on his face easing as he smiled.

"I'm sure he's wonderful. I can already see he's going to be trouble," Luna said, and Draco laughed. "He has fabulous parents and the best older sister in the world, who is currently standing in the hedgerow."

Lily flushed, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping. Her father and aunt didn't look angry, though, so she trooped across the lawn, joining them under the trees.

"Cake, Aunt Luna?" Lily asked, holding out the plate to her aunt. She'd been planning to offer it to Teddy as a bribe for the piggy back ride, but she thought her aunt needed it more.

"No thank you," her aunt answered, wrinkling her nose at the proffered dessert. She leaned in, her breath tickling at Lily's ear. "Blibbering Humdingers are attracted to butter cream. It's a little known fact, but one that could save you a lot of grief."

Lily grinned, sticking her finger in the aforementioned frosting and licking it off with relish as Aunt Luna and her father laughed. She saw her father look up and catch her dad's eye through the window, and it seemed as if they had some sort of silent conversation. Before he looked away, her father's face lit up and he smiled the special smile Lily only saw him give her dad. Both of her parents had been so worried about Aunt Luna ever since Score had been born, but it seemed like Aunt Luna was better and her parents could be happy all the time again.

It seemed like everything was back to normal, and Lily couldn't have been more relieved.

[Part III tomorrow!]


	3. Part III

*.*.*.*.*

**MALFOY MANOR, Aug. 23, 2036**

"Is everything OK?" James said, leaning in the doorway of the open door. Lily had let it swing open slightly to help the air circulate; she was roasting in her heavy dress, and the small waiting room at the abbey only had tiny windows.

Lily looked up, surprised by the serious tone in her brother's voice. James was _never_ serious.

"Of course." Score was her confidante; she never talked about things like fears with Jamie or Al. At six and eight years younger than her respectively, she felt more protective and motherly toward them. It was _her_ job to be there for _them_, not the other way around.

"You're doing that thing again," James said, frowning at her.

"That thing?"

He nodded, collapsing onto the sofa next to her. "Yes. That thing where you pretend everything's OK when it's really not. I'm your brother, Lils. You can tell me anything."

"I'm not pretending. Everything really _is_ OK."

James looked at her for a moment, shaking his head in disgust. "So that's why you've spent the last week staying at Rosie's instead of your place? That's why Victoire had to put a Confundus on you to get you to your last wedding dress fitting? That's why Scorpius has been frowning so hard his eyebrows might fall off?"

Lily couldn't help but smile. "His eyebrows?"

James tried to keep his serious expression but lost the battle when Lily started to laugh. He joined her, his green eyes still slightly shadowed by worry.

"Well, they might. He has that ferocious scowl, just like Father's," James said, knitting his brows together in a way that made him look absolutely ridiculous.

Lily laughed and snuggled into her brother's side. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, content with each other's company. It was one of the things Lily loved best about James. He was a clown, but he was comfortable in his own skin. He was happy to just _be_, which meant he was the best of her brothers at both cajoling her out of a bad mood and also providing silent comfort when she needed it, not that she let him do it often.

"I'm just nervous," she said finally, and James nodded, his chin bumping against her hair.

"Did you know that Father had to give Score a Calming Draught before his wedding?"

Lily sat up, her expression incredulous as she faced James. "He _didn't_."

James grinned. "Oh, he did. I'm the one who put it in Score's drink. We didn't think we'd get him down the aisle otherwise, and look at him now. He and Elle are disgustingly happy and they have a brood of disgustingly cute children. Everything worked out."

Lily wrinkled her nose. She figured that to her confirmed bachelor of a brother, two children might seem like a brood. But she knew Scorpius and Elle had plans for many more. Score told he'd enjoyed growing up with tons of siblings and cousins, and he wanted his kids to have the same experience.

"You're making this up," she said, squinting at her brother.

James crossed a hand over his heart, meeting her gaze head-on. "Wizard's honor."

"Well, that does make me feel better," Lily said, a wry smile curving her lips.

"Then my job is done."

Her brother pulled the door all the way open, and she could hear voices filter down the corridor. James left but immediately stuck his head back in, laughing.

"Looks like Dad's more nervous than you, even. He's pacing a hole in the floor out there."

"Lucius would have a _fit_," Lily said dryly, making her brother smile.

"I'd better intervene, then," James said, flashing her a grin. "Nothing puts a damper on a wedding like the death of one of the bride's fathers."

Lily laughed, rolling her eyes. She didn't think for a second that Lucius would _hurt_ her dad, but she was positive he'd Stupefy him without hesitation if her dad got too annoying. While her Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur were stereotypical grandparents, Lucius and Narcissa were not. They balked at being called grandma or grandpa, and the time a few years ago that Albus had called Lucius Pop-Pop on a dare from Teddy had nearly resulted in the older man having an aneurysm.

Not that Lucius and Narcissa loved them any less than Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur – Lily knew both sets of their grandparents doted on them. And she had to admit that there wasn't much grandparently about her father's parents – even at 82 and 81 respectively, they looked and acted half their age. They were barely past middle aged for wizards, and neither they nor Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur, who were a few years older but just as healthy and hale, showed any signs of infirmity. Her other grandparents simply _acted_ the way Lily assumed grandparents should. Grandma Molly was always baking and pinching cheeks, and Grandpa Arthur always had a sweet in his pocket for whichever grandchild he'd caught in a hug. Lucius and Narcissa were much less free with affection, but Lily knew they loved her and her brothers.

She fingered the pendant Aunt Fleur had braided into her hair earlier that day, hidden from view. She'd worn the Black family crest Narcissa had given her every day since she'd received it at her coming of age celebration, even when it had to be spelled invisible when she was working undercover or pinned to her clothes or in her hair, like today. Narcissa had given each of the boys a Black family ring when they'd turned 17, though Lily had been the only one to travel to the jewelry store that had crafted them and personally pick hers up. Her brothers' coming of age trips had been to places much more exotic than Paris, not that she'd have changed hers for the world. She and Andrew were even stopping over in Paris for the first leg of their honeymoon, spending the night in the same Wizarding hotel at the top of the Eiffel Tower that her parents had for their anniversary years ago.

*.*.*.*.*.*

**GEORGES V HOTEL, PARIS, April 3, 2025**

"I can't believe we're in _Paris_!"

Draco smiled indulgently at his daughter, who was currently hopping around their hotel suite with an enthusiasm more befitting a girl of seven rather than seventeen. He couldn't believe his baby girl was of age – she'd be leaving Hogwarts in just two months, headed to Auror Academy. It didn't seem possible.

"You're just lucky your grandparents decided we should stay at a hotel instead of their Paris flat, Lils," Harry said, wrinkling his nose. "If you think Grimmauld Place is dreary, you should have seen _that_."

"Don't listen to him. He knows full well that we sold the flat nineteen years ago, at your father's insistence, " Lucius said, gliding into the room like he owned it, a bottle of expensive champagne in his hand. He opened it with a wandless, nonverbal spell, winking at his granddaughter when her eyes went wide at the impressive display of magic, and poured into the glasses Narcissa had waiting. "Happy birthday, Lily."

Lily grinned and eagerly grabbed the glass, drinking it far too quickly and ending up sputtering as the bubbly liquid stung her throat.

Chagrined, she glanced up at her grandparents, who were both smiling and shaking their heads fondly. They'd brought her to Paris – _Paris_!-for her seventeenth birthday, and she was still reeling from the surprise of being called to the Headmistress' office hours ago. She'd been confused to see her grandfather there, instantly concerned that something had happened, but he'd only pressed a kiss to her cheek before he whisked her away by Portkey to the Georges V, where her grandmother and parents were waiting.

Her parents had been just as surprised by the trip, which was commemorating not only Lily's birthday but also their anniversary. It was their fifteenth, but she only knew that because her father had formally adopted her when she was two. She'd been eighteen months old her dad had adopted her, though why he and her father hadn't just waited until they'd officially been married was a mystery to her. They didn't like to talk about it, so she'd never pushed. She'd seen all the certificates, though, and the adoption dates were definitely different.

Her parents weren't big on celebrating their anniversary, which was odd, but Lily figured it was because they spent most of their time acting like newlyweds and didn't need a certain day of the year to be special. Still, fifteen years was a big milestone, and she'd been a bit surprised to find that her parents hadn't planned to do anything special. She remembered Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron's twentieth anniversary three years earlier – they'd rented a ballroom and had a huge party.

"What should we do first? Shopping on the Rue de Rivoli? Pain au chocolat on the Champs Elysées?" Lily smiled at her father, who was practically rubbing his hands together, obviously ready to show her the city.

"Actually, Lily, you and I have a dress fitting at a Wizarding boutique on Saint Honoré, and then we're having tea with Lucius here in the hotel," Narcissa said, her lips twitching upward into a smile as she saw the crestfallen look on her son's face.

"Lucius and I arranged a suite at that ghastly Wizarding hotel at the top of the Eiffel Tower for you tonight," she said, winking at Harry. "I know it's where you wanted to stay when you took your honeymoon here, but we insisted the flat would be better."

"I never knew you honeymooned in Paris," Lily squealed, clapping her hands together. "Did I come? I suppose you probably left me in London."

The guilty looks that flashed across her parents faces made Lily frown – she'd only been teasing, _of course_ they wouldn't have brought a toddler on their honeymoon! – but before she could say anything, Narcissa swooped in and whisked her away, chattering about the dresses they'd buy and the tiny jewelry store tucked away on a side street in Mont Martre they'd stop at, since it had been making coming-of-age pendants and rings for the Black family for generations.

[Part IV tomorrow!]


	4. Part IV

*.*.*.*.*

**MALFOY MANOR, Aug. 23, 2036**

A knock on the door startled Lily out of her thoughts, and she managed an unconvincing grin for her dad when Harry stuck his head around the door.

"Aw, Lils," Harry said, quickly sliding inside and shutting the door behind him, blocking out the voices in the corridor.

"I'm fine, Dad," she protested, swiping at a stray tear.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's normal to be nervous," Harry murmured, gathering her up into a tight hug as best he could without crushing her dress. "You know, your brother was just like this on _his_ wedding day, too. In fact, your father had to –"

"Nice try, Dad," Lily interrupted, giving him a watery smile. "Score's allergic to Valerian. I think I would have remembered if Scorpius had been sporting a purple rash during his vows."

Harry grinned, and the way his eyes lit made him look decades younger.

"Jamie never could get one past my observant little Slytherin," he said fondly, squeezing her affectionately before letting go and stepping back.

"Your observant _Auror_," she corrected archly, the twinkle in her eye giving her away. She was proud of being the Slytherin of the family. Everyone had assumed Score would be sorted into the house because of their father, but he'd gone Ravenclaw. James had surprised the entire family by being a Hufflepuff, and Albus, who took after their dad as much as Lily took after their father, temperament-wise, had been the family's token Gryffindor.

Harry sighed, his teasing smile softening into something more wistful. "You look beautiful, Lily."

She touched the tiara in her hair tentatively, suddenly feeling shy. She'd been trying to work up the courage to talk to her dad about some of her fears about marriage for weeks, but every time she tried the words felt heavy and wrong on her tongue. And the night before, when Andrew had said that her parents were the happiest married couple he knew while giving his speech at the rehearsal dinner, both her dad and her father had looked stricken for a moment before blushing and waving away the applause. At the time she'd wondered if it had simply been because they'd felt bad for Andrew's parents, who were both in attendance at the dinner but had divorced before he'd even gone off to Hogwarts.

It was one of the things that had gotten her thinking that morning, going over all the memories she had of her parents in her mind. Memories that she hadn't thought about in years, like her first Ministry ball and the tension in her family when Aunt Luna had given birth to Score, had a different flavor to them now that she was older. Things she'd missed suddenly stuck out at her, like the fact that Lucius had said her parents had stayed at the family flat in Paris for their honeymoon – even though it had been sold long before they'd adopted Lily and gotten married.

Andrew was right – her parents really _were_ the happiest married couple around. But why were there so many memories that didn't feel quite right, then? What if they hadn't always been so happy? What did that mean for her own marriage, especially since her bond with Andrew wasn't anywhere near as strong as the one between her parents?

"Is it normal, to be so unsure?" she asked, her throat closing up as thing she'd been so afraid to ask slipped off her tongue.

Harry hesitated, glancing toward the door as if he expected it to open at any minute. Before he could answer, though, she rushed on, the weight that had settled on her chest earlier lifting somewhat as she forced all the words out.

"I love Andrew, I do. But you and father – you're so perfect for each other. Even after what, twenty-six years? I'm just so scared that Andrew and I don't love each other like that. What if I wake up in ten years and I hate him?"

"Oh, baby girl," Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around her and letting her bury her face against his shoulder, just like she used to when she was young. He sidestepped them over to the sofa, urging her down onto it and sitting beside her, both her hands in his.

"You might," he said, and his stark honestly shocked Lily. She'd expected him to tell her that she and Andrew were in love and always would be. "Some day you might hate him. You might decide that your goals aren't the same anymore. You might grow apart. You might leave."

Lily took a shuddering breath, the panic rising again. If her own _dad_ thought her marriage was bound to fail –

"But it doesn't happen overnight," Harry continued, and Lily looked up, realizing for the first time that his gaze was locked on a spot on the carpet, not her. His eyes seemed unfocused. "You don't wake up one morning hating him. And if it does happen, and baby girl, I'm not saying that it will, you'll have plenty of notice. Problems like that don't just crop up – they brew, and you know they're brewing."

Lily frowned. No one in her family had gotten a divorce, and most of her parents' friends were either single or in their first marriage. How could he sound so sure? How could he _know_?

She heard a slight rustle in the doorway, and her dad's gaze trained up slowly, like he'd known the person was there. Lily turned around, unsurprised to see her father standing just inside the threshold. Her parents were like magnets – they were drawn to each other. It had taken quite a bit of adjustment to get used to seeing her dad by himself when they were at work; it seemed unnatural to see him without seeing her father beside him.

"Even then, Lils, you can work it out," her father said, and it took her a second to realize he was picking up the conversation seamlessly. "Even when it means admitting you were wrong and spending the rest of your life making up for it."

Lily looked to her dad, perplexed and slightly frightened by the shadow of hurt and unhappiness she saw ghost across his face.

"You never needed my forgiveness, Draco. There was nothing to forgive. You weren't wrong, we'd just –" he broke off, floundering for words. "– reached an impasse."

"In twenty-six years, I've never seen you have a fight that lasted more than a day or two," Lily said, looking between her parents.

"You'd hardly have been old enough to know that when you were little," her father said gently, shaking his head. "But you're right. In twenty-six years, we haven't. But in thirty-one? Yes. We have."

Lily frowned. "So you two fought a lot before you were married?"

Harry shook his head, waiting until Draco had joined them in the small sitting room, closing the door on his way over. Lily looked at her father, who'd perched on the edge of the ottoman in front of them, perplexed by how solemn both her parents seemed.

"No," Harry said, taking a deep breath and swallowing when Draco intertwined their fingers.

"We were married in 2005, Lily. Not in 2010."

Lily balked. "No. There are pictures," she said, shaking her head, brow furrowed. "You and father in dress robes, and me with flowers in my hair, with all our relatives at some Muggle courthouse. And later, in the same clothes, there's a gigantic cake, and everyone's smiling and dancing and when I asked you about it, you said it was the happiest day of your life."

The words came out in a frantic rush, becoming jumbled at the end as Lily realized that when she'd been eight and found the album, her father hadn't said it was of their wedding day – he'd said:"It was the happiest day of my life, Lily, because it was the day our family started."

She had just _assumed_ it was her parents' wedding day. She already knew that her dad had adopted her by himself; her parents had shown her the Ministry paperwork just a few years after she'd learned to read. She'd always known she was adopted, just like she'd always known that her dad had adopted her first, and then her father had as well, after they'd been married.

Or maybe not.

"It _was_ the happiest day of our lives, Lils," her dad said, a pained smile on his lips as he watched her blink back tears of confusion and hurt. On a soft sigh, he tightened his grip on Draco's hand and launched into a tale that would change the way Lily looked at her parents – and marriage – forever.

*.*.*.*.*

**THE MALFOY LONDON FLAT, Sept. 18, 2009 **

"The baby is leaking again," Draco said, lips curved into a moue of disgust as he held Rose out in front of him, her small legs kicking and flailing.

Harry snorted, rolling his eyes but taking his niece anyway. "It wouldn't kill you to change a diaper, Draco."

"It very well might."

Harry shook his head, telling Rosie in a sing-song voice that her Uncle Draco was a selfish bastard who would be shown the error of his ways when he was a father himself. Rose giggled and babbled back, oblivious to the thunderous look on her other uncle's face.

"You know the Ministry would never approve a same-sex couple adopting a child," Draco said, his tone edged in steel. They'd had this argument many times, and Harry was always convinced that he was right. Draco didn't _want_ children. He'd never wanted children. And that had been alright with Harry, at least until Ron and Hermione had started a family of their own. The naked longing Draco had seen in Harry's expression when he'd first held Rose had caused nothing but icy panic in Draco's own heart.

"Besides, you know I have no interest in having children. Isn't it enough that we babysit the Weasleys' stable of monsters?"

"Are you a monster, Rosie? Are you?" Harry asked, widening his eyes comically and kissing her belly. The toddler laughed. Harry finished fastening her clean diaper, kissing her on the nose before putting her down on the floor. She tore off at full tilt toward the kitchens, no doubt looking for Kreacher, who always had a cookie for whichever child was staying at Grimmauld at the time.

"I'm serious, Harry," Draco said, gritting his teeth and trying to sound civil so the conversation didn't turn into the screaming match it usually devolved into. They'd had this fight too many times to count. "I don't want to be a father."

"No problem. _I'll_ be the father, and you can be the mother," Harry said snidely, his eyes on his niece, who had run back into the sitting room, clutching a cookie and spreading crumbs across Draco's antique carpet.

"Oh, that's helpful," Draco shot back, using his wand to Levitate Rose back onto the hardwood. The toddler squealed in delight, oblivious to the way her other uncle's face darkened. Draco wasn't, though, and he merely shrugged, flicking the wand back into its wrist holster when his carpet was once again safe. "No food on the rug."

Harry clenched his jaw, striding across the room and scooping Rose up. She giggled again, not catching the undertone of tension in the room.

"Children aren't pets, Draco."

"Damn it, Harry, that's exactly my point!" Draco squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before opening them and continuing calmly, "I don't want children. I like our life the way it is. I don't mind babysitting the brats your friends keep popping out, since it makes you so happy, but I don't want children of our own."

Harry shot him a hard look, tucking Rose more securely against his side before bustling toward the Floo with her.

"I'm finally beginning to believe you on that."

Draco couldn't help but feel guilty at the look of absolute misery on Harry's face, but he stood his ground. They'd weathered a lot of fights in their five years of marriage and had an even rockier courtship before that. Harry would come around. He always did. And Draco was sure that if Harry just stopped to _think_, he'd see that Draco was right. They were dogged by the press whenever they appeared in public together, and that wasn't even counting the glares and epithets they had to endure from strangers who didn't approve of their relationship. Just last Christmas at the Burrow, he and Harry had begged off before pudding with a thin excuse of other commitments because Angelina's parents, who'd joined them for the meal, had been so uncomfortable having a gay couple dine with them. George had been full of apologies for his in-laws, and they'd heard later that Molly had dug into the Johnsons for their behavior after Harry and Draco had left, but it didn't change the fact that their relationship wasn't generally accepted. _They_ weren't generally accepted. How could Harry want to bring a child into that?

"Harry," Draco said after a long moment, "Don't go away mad."

Molly had been the one to give them that advice when a fight on their first anniversary had turned so vicious that Harry had stormed out and spent the night at the Burrow. They'd held fast to it ever since, doing their best to make sure that angry words weren't the last things they exchanged before leaving the house or going to sleep. It didn't always work, but usually the attempt at least lightened the mood.

Harry just shook his head, jaw clenched.

"I have to get Rose home," Harry said quietly, locking eyes with Draco as he hitched Rose higher on his hip and tossed his handful of Floo powder into the grate.

*.*.*.*.*

Draco wasn't sure if it was because of the memory of Harry spending their first anniversary sleeping in the guest room at the Burrow or because he was still more than a little angry himself, but he wasn't concerned when he woke in the morning and found that Harry hadn't climbed into bed beside him overnight.

They worked different schedules, so going to bed or waking up alone wasn't new to him. As an Auror, Harry was called out at all hours of the day and night. Draco often missed dinner himself, either because he was caught up at the office or because he was wining and dining clients, something Harry had made perfectly clear he had no intention of helping him with.

He looked at the clock, wincing when he realized his alarm was about to go off. A long day of meetings beckoned, capped off with a cocktail reception for the latest merger and a charity auction his parents had arranged for one of their pet charities. Draco groaned, hauling himself up and heading for the shower, wondering when he'd get a chance to Floo Harry and apologize.

*.*.*.*.*

Harry squared his shoulders, forcing himself to stand upright and look every bit of the vaunted war hero the Ministry was always touting him as. In truth, being inside the Ministry building, even after all these years, made his skin crawl. The interior had been completely redone after the fall of Voldemort, but it still felt claustrophobic to Harry. He exited the Floo, walking quickly to the elevators, where Blaise had said he'd meet him. The other wizard, punctual as always, was already there, head tucked down as he studied a folder full of paperwork.

Blaise was looking up at him by the time Harry joined him, the parchments all neatly stowed in the briefcase that Harry was certain must have an Undetectable Extension charm on it, since it always looked so sleek and slim but carried untold numbers of things.

"All set then?" Blaise asked, his jovial tone not matching the hard look he was giving Harry.

Even though Blaise strongly objected to what they were about to do, he'd never air Harry's dirty laundry in public. He was a good friend and an even better law wizard, and above all else, Harry knew he could count on Blaise to do what needed to be done, regardless of his own opinion. Not that Blaise hadn't done his damndest to talk Harry out of it – he had. They'd stayed up more than half the night arguing, and then after he'd seen Harry safely tucked away in the guest room, Blaise had brewed a pot of coffee, liberally dosed it with potions to keep himself awake and alert, and completed all the paperwork they were about to file.

Harry had not been there when he'd woken up that morning, not that Blaise had been surprised to find him gone. He'd located him on the first try – the Burrow – to let him know when their appointment at the Ministry was scheduled.

The two of them waited in silence as the crowd in front of the elevators grew. Blaise wasn't sure he'd ever had a call returned as quickly as the one had been from the Ministry earlier that morning. And he hadn't been shocked at all when the secretary had informed him that although the usual wait time for an appointment with the office was six to eight weeks, the director herself could see Mr. Harry Potter at noon that very day.

As much as Harry hated using his name to garner favors, Blaise knew this wasn't one of those times. He'd graciously accepted the appointment, Floo'd the Burrow to remind Harry to wear the ridiculous medals the Ministry had insisted on bestowing on him after the war, and disappeared back into his office to finish his filings.

Harry gritted his teeth when they stepped into the elevator, ignoring the unabashed stares of those around him. The Aurors had been moved off-site after the Ministry had been rebuilt after the war, which meant the sight of Harry Potter at the Ministry was an odd one. And he was sure that tongues would be wagging all over Diagon Alley when he and Blaise, who was dressed in his formal green robes that announced him as a law wizard, stepped off on the eighth floor, home to only one department: The Office of Magical Adoptions.

*.*.*.*.*

**THE BURROW, Dec. 25, 2009**

"Was it a potions accident?"

Harry quirked a brow at Teddy. His ten-year-old godson was sporting green hair that matched the Christmas tree in the corner, his cheeks flushed with too much excitement and sugar. He and Andromeda had eaten Christmas dinner at Malfoy Manor before she'd dropped him off at the Burrow so he could open presents with his cousins, but that hadn't stopped "Grandma Molly," as she'd insisted Teddy call her, from serving him up an extra large helping of pudding.

"Was _what_ a potions accident?" George asked, bouncing Rose on his right knee while carefully holding onto the auburn-haired toddler on his left, bouncing her at a much slower rate. Lily wasn't used to the rough sort of play that dominated Weasley family get-togethers, and as a result, everyone was being extra cautious with the eighteen-month-old.

Harry looked over at his daughter – _his daughter_, the words still made his heart speed up – giggling on her uncle's knee before turning his attention back to Teddy.

"You know, whatever happened to Harry and Draco. Narcissa was talking to my grandma about their 'painful separation,' but I couldn't figure out how they got _joined_. So was it a potions accident? Did something go wrong and you got stuck to him? Is that why you're not living with Draco anymore? Does it still hurt?"

The room went silent, and Harry struggled to breathe normally. It felt like a hippogriff was sitting on his chest. Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat, desperate to find the right response.

"Everyone knows Harry's horrible at potions," George said easily, still bouncing the giggling girls on his legs. "Can't say even Draco's stupid enough to take _him_ into a lab."

And just like that, the moment passed. The answer was enough to distract Teddy, and sensing that the tension had been dispelled, everyone else in the sitting room resumed their own conversations. It was just like any other Christmas, except that this year, Harry was there with his daughter instead of his husband. And he wouldn't be going home to the flat he and Draco shared, the one they'd fought over because Draco wanted a trendy home and Harry just wanted someplace cozy in a neighborhood that had a corner curry shop and a bakery.

No, he and Lily would be spending the night at the Burrow, sleeping in Ron's old room. And tomorrow, he'd take her home to Grimmauld Place, which was just barely habitable at the moment, thanks to the complete renovation that Harry had started the day he brought Lily home and realized that it didn't even have a proper nursery. The architect, a man named Downsley who'd been a few years ahead of Harry at Hogwarts, had promised it would be done by New Year's, something Harry accepted with great skepticism. Still, it would be great to have it all finished. Even in its chaotic state, it was much improved. Floor to ceiling windows had replaced their tiny counterparts, and every bit of carpeting and wallpaper had been removed, replaced with buttery oak and inviting paint. Fleur was working on the nursery as her housewarming gift, painting animals that would twirl and dance across the walls at the flick of a wand.

Harry sat still, his heart rate still racing, as he watched everyone return to normal around him. The sound of Lily's laugh helped, as did the warm smile Hermione shot him from across the room and the wink from George. But it wasn't until he was tucking a sleeping Lily into her cot that Harry realized he'd never answered his godson's question.

His throat closed as he thought about Draco, who Harry hadn't seen since he walked out three months earlier. It didn't matter that the separation had been his own idea, or that Draco had tried everything possible to get him to change his mind. The constant Owls and Floo messages had stopped once the _Daily Prophet_ had run a story about Harry adopting Lily, the child of magical parents who'd died in a Muggle car accident, about a week after Harry had left. All attempts at contact from Draco stopped after that, and it had become crystal clear that Draco had meant every word of what he'd said about not wanting to be a parent. Harry had known that walking out and adopting a baby on his own likely meant the end of his relationship with Draco, but part of him had expected Draco to come running after him, willing to accept Lily if it meant they could all be together.

Now, every time the mail came, Harry held his breath, expecting a divorce summons. Their marriage wasn't legally recognized by the Ministry, which was the reason Harry had been able to adopt Lily as a single father. They'd never have let the two of them adopt a magical child together. Divorce was common in the Muggle world, though, and Harry was half-tempted to start the proceedings himself just to put an end to the agonizing wait. He'd already walked out on Draco and very publicly ended their relationship by adopting a child on his own. He wouldn't take the decision to get a divorce out of Draco's hands, too.

So yes, Teddy, Harry thought as he turned the night light and set a monitoring spell on in the room Molly set aside for her grandchildren to sleep in. The separation? It does still hurt.

*.*.*.*.*

**THE MALFOY LONDON FLAT, Feb. 25, 2010**

"Darling,all this brooding can't be good for you. You'll get wrinkles."

Draco glared at his mother, who laughed and tipped her silver cigarette holder down, dropping ash on his coffee table. He Levitated a bowl over to her, but she merely arched a brow and flicked the cigarette again, indiscriminately raining down another small pile of ash.

"Seriously, Draco. I want to meet my granddaughter. Get over this churlishness and apologize."

"Get over this _churlishness_?," Draco repeated, incredulous. "Mother, _he_ left _me_. He adopted a child, knowing my views on it. The only thing I don't understand is why he hasn't sent me the divorce decree yet."

Draco tried to sound indifferent, but his voice cracked halfway through, making him swallow and grimace. He'd been desperate when Harry had disappeared, frantic that he'd been hurt or kidnapped. A Floo call to the Burrow had confirmed that he was still alive, and that evening Draco had come home to find Blaise packing a box for Harry. The photo album of Harry's parents, a necklace that had belonged to Sirius, his clothes. Harry hadn't asked for any of their wedding gifts or mutual possessions, and somehow that had been worse for Draco. It was as if Harry was walking away from _everything_ – from Draco and everything that could possibly remind him of their life together.

He'd pressed Blaise for explanations, but his friend had shaken his head, telling Draco that Harry was his client and he couldn't divulge any information. That had made Draco nearly insane with fear that Harry had already started divorce proceedings until he'd calmed down enough to realize that Blaise didn't practice Muggle law. His curiosity had been answered a few days later when the _Prophet_ had devoted its entire front page to Harry Potter and his desperate loneliness and desire for children, which had been fulfilled when he'd adopted an eighteen-month-old orphan who had been in the care of the Ministry's Child Services Division ever since the death of her parents four months earlier.

After that, Draco had stopped trying to contact Harry. Nothing could have made it clearer to him that Harry had moved on, and that he'd obviously been planning to do so for some time. Even with the kind of money and fame Harry had, he couldn't possibly have adopted a child in the span of a week and a half. No, Harry would have had to apply to be an adoptive parent months in advance. There were background checks and interviews and psychological tests. Draco knew because he'd looked into it himself when Harry first began talking about wanting a child.

Not that the Ministry would have allowed two gay men to adopt a child together. Though Harry had certainly found a way around that, hadn't he?

"And do you wonder _why_ he hasn't asked for a divorce, Draco?"

"Because our marriage is only valid in the Muggle world, so unless he plans to marry someone else, it doesn't matter?"

He knew his answer was flip and contrary, but Draco didn't care. He'd been enduring these weekly visits from his mother ever since his split with Harry had gone public, and he was tired of putting on a brave face and pretending that he'd had any say in it at all.

"Draco!"

"Don't sound so scandalized, Mother," he said peevishly, focusing on using his wand to Banish the ashes she was dropping since it was easier than looking her in the eye.

"Draco, if for one second I thought you believed that Harry doesn't love you, I'd never bring it up again," she said, taking a delicate pull on her cigarette for emphasis.

"Mother, if Harry loved me, he'd never have left."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes, putting her cigarette down in the bowl Draco had put out and leaning in closer to her son.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy, you are either a fool or an arsehole. I would hate to think I had raised someone who was the latter, so let's hope you're a fool."

Draco gaped at his mother, not sure he'd ever heard her curse before.

"Harry loves you, and you love him. The only thing you two ever really fought about was children, but you didn't even really have a disagreement there," she said, and Draco felt like a fish out of water, his lips moving but no sound coming out.

"I know you, Draco. You want children. I see you with the Weasley brood. You act indifferent, but you aren't."

Draco tried a weak smirk, hoping to head her off. "You're projecting. I'm not the one desperate for a kid, _you're_ the one who wants me to have one because you want a grandchild."

"That may be," she said calmly, refusing to take his bait. "But I also know that you are not your father. He made some terrible mistakes, Draco. Unforgivable mistakes. But he loves you now, and he loved you then. You are nothing like the man you remember him to be, and you will be nothing like him as a father."

Draco felt his throat tighten, his eyes aching with a sudden and unexpected prick of tears. Most of the time his mother liked to pretend she was a mindless socialite, but he knew better. She was extremely intelligent and had moments of shocking intuition. How had she known the real reason he'd been so adamant about not having children?

"The real question isn't whether or not you would be a good father, Draco," she said gently, retrieving her silver cigarette holder and standing. "It's whether or not you're willing to give up everything simply because you're afraid."

*.*.*.*.*

**THE NOTT ESTATE, March 2, 2010**

If Pansy Parkinson-Nott was surprised to find Draco in her entryway, she didn't let it show. Heavily pregnant with her third child, she had a little boy perched on one hip and another trailing behind, leaving sticky footprints that looked suspiciously like grape jam on the otherwise immaculate white marble flooring.

"Ebbie will clean that," Pansy said, catching Draco's horrified gaze and waving his concerns for the floor away.

It wasn't the fact that the house-elf _could_ clean the floor that had him so worried – it was the fact that the house-elf would need to. How in the world had the child managed to step in jam? And why was he so unconcerned about trailing it all over? Hell, why was _Pansy_ so unconcerned?

"You said you wanted to talk to me?" As she spoke, Pansy eased herself down into a chair, putting the toddler who'd been on her hip onto the armrest.

"I just had some questions. About, erm, children," he said, transfixed by the sight of her older son, who had finally noticed he'd been trailing purple jam everywhere and had plopped down on the floor to draw designs in it with his pudgy little fingers.

"If you're expecting advice about how to avoid having them, you've clearly come to the wrong place," Pansy said, sparing a self-deprecating glance at her belly and surprising a laugh out of Draco. She's mellowed since school, even more so since she and Theo started having children.

"I just–" Draco sighed, unsure of what exactly he wanted. "You know about Harry, I'm sure? And the baby he adopted?"

Pansy nodded, absently steadying her younger son as he wiggled his way off the armrest and toddled over to join his brother fingerpainting the floor.

"Lily? Of course. The boys loved her."

That gave Draco a jolt. Pansy had already met Harry's daughter?

"We had them over for dinner a few months ago. She and the boys go to the same preschool playgroup. It's just a few hours every Friday, but they seem to love it, and you'd never catch me complaining about a few hours of quiet."

It seemed unfathomable to Draco that Harry had the little girl in things like preschool already. Of course, he'd have returned to work by now and must have her in some sort of daycare. Or, knowing Molly, probably spending her days at the Burrow. But who took care of her when Harry was called in on a case in the middle of the night? Who made sure she got to bed on time and wasn't spoiled rotten with sweets and toys when Harry had stakeouts and late nights?

"Your questions, Draco? I'm sorry, love, but I have to get the boys down for a nap soon."

Draco personally thought they needed to be hosed down before they came into contact with anything else in the house, but he supposed Pansy was used to living with grape jam stains.

"How did you know?" he blurted, instantly wishing he could take the words back.

"How did I know what?"

"That you and Theo would be good parents. How did you know, Pans?"

He couldn't quite keep the edge of desperation out of his voice, and it was embarrassing. But Pansy's sharp look softened when she saw how worried he was.

"We didn't. And sometimes we aren't. You can't be a good parent all of the time. The only thing you can do is try," she said, snapping her fingers at her sons to stop the fight that was budding between the two of them over a broken toy they'd found under one of the sofas.

"Listen, Draco. You never know what kind of parent you'll be until you already are one. I swore I'd never yell like my mother did, but I scream at them every day. But I love them more than anything, and every day I try to be better. And maybe I do still yell, but we also play and laugh and cuddle. It all balances out."

Draco nodded woodenly. He wasn't worried about yelling at a child. He was worried about being an absolute failure. He remembered cold, silent dinners and afternoons spent in his room quaking in fear because he'd done something that his father had promised punishment for. It had been no way for a child to live, and he was terrified that he'd end up doing the same if he had a child.

"When Alfie was nine months old, Theo took him out with him to the store. And left him there, right in the shopping trolley. Came home with the shopping but not the baby. He realized when he was putting the milk in the cold cupboard. He Apparated back to the store so fast he actually Splinched himself – lost all the toenails on his right foot. I was so mad I could have killed him," she said, but instead of looking murderously angry, Pansy's lips quirked into a smile as she shook her head. "Last week I gave Gus a Pepper Up Potion instead of a juice. The packaging was the same color. Took him to St. Mungo's in a panic and they told me it would work its way out of his system and not to worry, that it happens all the time."

Draco looked perplexed at how any of that applied to him, and Pansy grinned.

"All you can do is love them, Draco. There's no one way to be a good parent, just like there's no one way to be a bad one. The only thing that really separates the two is that a good parents loves their children unconditionally and will do anything for them."

*.*.*.*.*

**GRIMMAULD PLACE, March 16, 2010**

"Look, Harry, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Harry stopped mid-stride, his arms full of the toys he'd been racing around the room to corral. No matter how often he cleaned, he was no match for the clutter that a toddler could spread. At twenty-one months, Lily seemed to be pitching headfirst into the Terrible Twos a few months early, and Harry felt as though he was doomed to spend his entire life cleaning up dumped bins of toys and scrubbing tossed plates of food off the floor and walls.

She'd only been part of his life for six months, but it felt like so much longer. Especially since those had been six months that Draco _hadn't_ been in his life. It had been hard, but Lily was worth it. But that didn't mean that Harry wasn't going to jump at the chance to reconcile with his husband, which was the reason behind the frantic cleaning.

He and Draco had been exchanging letters and Floo calls for two weeks, working up to today: Draco finally meeting Lily. Harry was unaccountably nervous, especially since he now understood _why_ Draco had been so reluctant to have children. He was certain that Draco would love Lils; it was impossible not to. But would Lily take to him? And what if after all these months, they'd grown too far apart? What if Lily got attached but he and Draco couldn't work things out?

"For Merlin's sake, Harry, sit down! You're making _me_ nervous, and I'm just here to make sure you two don't end up throwing your wedding china at each other."

Harry glared at Blaise, who was sitting on the sofa, a cherubic looking Lily perched on his lap. She'd refused the outfit Harry had tried to dress her in and was instead wearing a pair of thick purple tights, a sparkly pink tutu and one of Teddy's sweaters from when he'd been a baby with a menacing looking skull and cross bones.

At least he'd tamed her hair, Harry thought with a resigned sigh. No one could resist Lils in her pigtails. They were so tiny. And that wasn't even mentioning the bows!

He dropped his armload of toys behind the coffee table, sinking onto the sofa next to Blaise. If the entire sum of his plan to win back Draco included flaunting a not-quite-two-year-old's pig tails, he didn't have a prayer.

When the Floo roared to life a minute later, Harry swore his heart stopped beating. Draco emerged, looking slightly anxious but still gorgeous, and immediately strode into the room, squatting down on the floor between Blaise and Harry. He reached a hand out, making eye contact with Harry for a split second before grabbing his hand and holding it tightly, and then reached his other out to Lily.

"Hi Lily," he said, lips curving into a smile. "I'm Draco."

*.*.*.*.*.*.

**MALFOY MANOR, Aug. 23, 2036**

Everyone jumped when the door banged open and Al stumbled inside without an apology for not knocking.

As the baby of the family, they'd never chastised him enough about manners, in Lily's opinion, and it definitely showed. What had been cute for a two year old was decidedly less so for a twenty year old.

She remembered Albus as two. He'd been precocious and adorable, though she doubted he remembered anything at that age. She certainly didn't, or else she'd have remembered how much trouble her parents' marriage had been in.

"Lils, we doing this or what? I was hoping to be out of here by eight. There's this girl I said I'd meet."

She scowled at her brother, but her dad was up and on him before she could respond. Harry exchanged a look with Draco before dragging their youngest son from the room, lecturing him on propriety and manners.

"So you and dad, you divorced?" Her voice squeaked, and Lily swallowed, taking a deep breath. She'd always thought her parents were perfect.

"No, we didn't. I met you and the rest is history," her father said, grinning. "Your dad was right when he thought that I wouldn't be able to resist you. No one could. You were a beautiful child, and you were always so full of smiles and energy. I didn't stand a chance."

Lily smiled weakly. "But the pictures, with the cake and the flowers and that Muggle judge?"

Draco smiled.

"Your adoption. The Ministry doesn't allow same-sex couples to adopt, but your dad already had custody of you by the Ministry's laws. So we took you to a Muggle court and I adopted you there. It doesn't hold for the wizarding community, but at least in the Muggle world, you and your brothers are ours. There was no way we were letting anyone split up our family."

Lily felt like crying. "But I already did."

Draco wrapped an arm around her, pulling her head against his shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you didn't. Your dad and I, we were on a bad track. Things needed to change or we'd have been headed for divorce. And you are the best change I could possibly have hoped for. You didn't split up our family, you _gave_ us a family. You and your brothers, you're everything we've ever done right."

Lily's breath hitched, and Draco squeezed her.

"Do you want me to get Andrew?"

"No," Lily said, pressing a quick kiss to her father's cheek before straightening. "But you'd better send Aunt Fleur in here. She's going to kill me when she sees my make-up, and Narcissa would faint if I walked down the aisle like this."

"That's my girl," Draco said, kissing her on the nose like he used to do when she was a child. "And Lils? Never doubt that I love you. I always have."

Lily nodded, throat hot with unshed tears.

"I know."

*.*.*.*.*.*

**PARIS, Aug. 23, 2036**

"I still can't believe our baby girl is married," Harry said, collapsing into an overstuffed love seat near a the fireplace, which was crackling merrily despite the August heat. It had been spelled not to be warm, of course, since an overly hot room wouldn't have detracted from the ambiance at the self-proclaimed _Most Romantic Wizarding Hotel in the World_.

"_I_ still can't believe she booked into this hotel for her honeymoon and then foisted it on us," Draco said, scowling at the heart-shaped bed that sat next to the only good thing about the room—the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over Paris.

Harry laughed, kicking off his shoes and nearly sighing at how good it felt to be out of them. Lily's wedding had gone beautifully, despite the shaky start it had gotten off to when the bride and her fathers showed up twenty minutes late. She'd been absolutely gorgeous, and Harry's heart had ached when he'd had to turn her over to Andrew.

The reception had been wonderful as well, hours of dancing and fabulous food, starting off with a champagne toast from George that had left all of the guests blowing confetti out of their ears. Everyone, even Lucius and Narcissa, had seen the humor, and it had set the tone for the evening. The levity perfectly suited Lily and Andrew, especially after the traditional ceremony that they'd agreed to because it was what his mother – and Narcissa – had wanted.

"It was a sweet gesture," Harry said, wrinkling his nose as he looked at the bed. Someone had strewn rose petals across the satin slipcover. "She said she booked it because she remembered that we'd spent our anniversary here."

Draco snorted, using his wand to Levitate the shiny bedspread and dump it in a heap in the corner. The sheets were the same material, though, and he cringed visibly. He and Harry hadn't actually stayed at the hotel when Lucius and Narcissa had booked it for them all those years ago. They'd Flooed home and taken advantage of the fact that the boys had been staying at the Burrow to have some rare alone time at Grimmauld Place before Flooing back in the morning to join Lily and Draco's parents for breakfast at the Georges V.

"We're not sleeping on those sheets," Draco said, eying them dubiously.

"On that we agree," Harry said, opening the bottle of Shiraz he'd snagged from the reception and pouring it into the champagne flutes the hotel had supplied. Neither one of them was eager to try the cheap bottle of bubbly wine that had come with the room. He grinned at the look of mock outrage on Draco's face at the horror of drinking red wine out of the slender glasses, toasting him with one before handing it to him.

"Should we check out and go home, then?" Draco asked, taking a sip of his wine.

"Al would tell on us. He's staying at the house tonight."

"Ah. Another hotel, then? The Georges V never disappoints."

"I don't know," Harry said coyly, putting his wine on the table and standing so he could stretch. He'd shed his formal robes earlier, and the move made his thin undershirt ride up, exposing a tanned belly that was still flat and muscled, honed from years of keeping fit as an Auror."We never did get the typical Parisian honeymoon, you know. Your parents' flat was awful, and we ended up going home after two days."

Draco watched Harry's languid stretch with interest, settling into the chair he'd taken. Harry still moved with an athlete's grace, and he used every bit of it as he stalked forward until he was straddling Draco's legs, looming over him.

"That's true," Draco said, his breath catching as Harry settled into his lap and took the wine glass out of his nerveless fingers, placing it safely on the table. "But I'm still not getting in that bed."

Harry threw his head back and laughed. Over the years he'd come to find Draco's snobbishness endearing, and he personally couldn't have agreed more that the tacky satin sheets were the last things he'd want touching his naked body – or Draco's.

"Even you can't object to the very clean, very large shower we saw when we came in," he all but purred, nuzzling against Draco's neck. The bellhop had given them a very enthusiastic tour of the honeymoon suite when they'd arrived, pointing out the many amenities, including the extra large steam shower and jacuzzi tub in the bathroom.

"Sex in the shower, Potter?" Draco drawled, the breathy sigh he gave as Harry nipped at his Adam's apple canceling out the scorn in his tone.

"Best kind," Harry answered, trailing wet kisses up Draco's jaw and sucking on his earlobe.

The day Draco had met Lily, they'd had sex in the shower after Harry had tucked her away in her cot for the evening. Draco had been so worried about her overhearing them that he'd refused to have sex with Harry in Harry's bedroom, which adjoined the nursery. Ironically, _that_ had been the thing that had truly convinced Harry that Draco was back for good and really did want to be a father to Lily – his concern over their not-quite-two-year old hearing them have sex. The sex itself had been too frantic and rushed to actually be mind blowing, but it had been full of tentative touches and wordless apology and overall, _perfect_. And by some unspoken agreement, it had become their thing. Whenever they'd been angry with each other, they had shower sex. On anniversaries and birthdays, they had shower sex. And now, after an emotionally trying day that included not only their daughter's wedding but also recounting their own very private, very painful near-divorce while trying to save her wedding, Draco was more than willing to engage in a little therapeutic shower sex.

"You were listening when Gillaume mentioned the flavored lubes in the shower, right?" Harry whispered, barely choking back a snicker. After that particular amenity had been pointed out, Draco had stuffed a handful of Galleons into the man's hand and hustled him to the door. The bellhop had smirked knowingly, assuming they were anxious to get started tasting the lubes, but Harry had seen the look of undisguised horror on Draco's face.

"Don't push it," Draco muttered menacingly, jiggling his legs so Harry had to stand.

It felt almost like they _were_ newlyweds again, chasing each other into the well-appointed marble bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind themselves. By the time the glass shower walls had steamed up, they were already inside, ignoring the scented lubes in favor of the vial of slick that Draco always carried, brewed in his own potions lab at home.

Draco gasped out as he felt Harry slide into him, the warm, welcome fullness both familiar and thrilling. Harry responded by sharply thrusting his hips, leaving Draco scrambling for purchase against the slick wall, trying to stay on his feet as Harry slammed into him. There were no soft touches or whispered endearments, only the frantic rush toward completion that always marked their shower sex encounters. It was always just like it had been that first time, rushed and hard, except that the tentative wariness they'd once had to fight through was now replaced with warm, possessive familiarity.

Harry mouthed kisses against the wet skin of Draco's neck as he drove deep inside him, his breath coming in harsh pants as he felt the tingle of his orgasm building in his belly. He wrapped his hand around Draco's cock, not pausing to use any of Draco's carefully crafted lube to ease the way as he stripped it with a pressure that was almost painful. Draco responded instantly, his muscles trembling as he came. Harry gritted his teeth, thighs burning with the effort of keeping them both upright through the waves of his own orgasm.

Harry eased out of Draco, wrapping his arms around his torso and spooning up behind him as they let the water wash over them as they caught their breath. Harry had often thought over the years that if they could just stay in the shower forever, their lives would be perfect. Their showers had seen them through many rough patches, and it had always been tempting to stay inside their little cocoon of peace for as long as they could.

Tonight, though, Harry was eager to turn the water off. He had every intention of being the consummate honeymooner in Paris, and that meant leaving the confines of the shower and hitting the streets. There were cafes to visit, gardens to stroll and alleys to steal kisses in. Not to mention the Georges V hotel key that Andrew had slipped him after Lily had announced they'd be staying at Malfoy Manor for the night instead of heading to Paris, letting her parents take their hotel room at the top of the Eiffel Tower. After all, Lily took after Draco in just about every way imaginable, and Harry had to give her new husband credit; he did know their family well – including the fact that neither Draco nor Lily would actually spend the night in a hotel with satin sheets.

-the end-

NOTE: If you enjoyed this, you might like some of the slash offerings on my original fiction site. Visit me at www[dot]bru-baker[dot]com, and be sure to drop by the feedback section to say hi! *g*

To Euclidian: I'd have responded in a PM, but you have those disabled, babe! You were right about the discrepancy in part I - I had changed the timeline later in the writing process and forgotten that one. Oops. I'll change it in the text. Here's the official timeline - it should help:

Since future!fics can be hard to imagine, especially one that have so many flashbacks, here's a helpful timeline:

Hogwarts leaving ceremony: 1999

Harry and Ron go through Auror academy: 1999-2001

Harry and Draco start dating: 2002

Ron and Hermione marry: 2002

Harry and Draco marry: 2005

Rose Weasley born: 2005

Lily born: 2008

Harry leaves Draco: 2009

Harry adopts Lily: 2009 (Lily, age 18 months)

Harry and Draco reconcile: 2010 (Lily is now 21 months)

Draco adopts Lily: 2010

Scorpius born to Luna: 2012

James born to surrogate: 2014

Albus born (adopted at 4 months): 2016

Lily attends her first Ministry ball: May 2, 2018

Lucius and Narcissa take Lily, Harry and Draco to Paris: April 2025

Present day: 2036 (Lily is 28)


End file.
